


Mr Frilly

by clevermonkey93



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Meetings, Getting Together, M/M, Meet-Cute, Single Parent Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, flirting in the confectionary aisle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:21:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27884407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clevermonkey93/pseuds/clevermonkey93
Summary: It's hard to convince Ciri not to talk to strangers when she is the reason Geralt meets Jaskier in the first place.Alternatively, this is what happened when I was headcannoning with my witcher nerd pals about meet-cutes and tried to type Ciri and Jaskier trolley jousting at the shop, and accidentally typed frilly jousting. And frilly Jaskier was born, but is not inaccurate. This is just 1400 words of fluff and cuteness. More dating and flirty fluff to come.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 25
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

Geralt pulled into the supermarket carpark, smiling minutely at Ciri in the backseat. At least she’d stopped moaning about having to sit in the back “ _I’m seven, Daddy, I can sit in the front now_.” Geralt knew Yen let her sit up front by this point but the back was safer, just in case – 

“Daddy! Do they have the white chocolate hobknobs here too? They’re my favourite!” 

Ah, right. His daughter was excited that they were visiting a new store, not Yen’s usual supermarket. Geralt wasn't looking forward to when Ciri was no longer excited by mundane things like new shops and snacks. He’d have to get more interesting by then. 

“We'll see what they have when we get to the biscuit aisle,” Geralt said placatingly as he unloaded the little blonde imp from the car. “Hold my hand.” She'd not been here before; as soon as she saw something sparkly or loud, Geralt knew his daughter would run towards it. 

“I know which trolley we need!” Ciri impatiently dragged her father to the queue of trolleys, and he was just thankful she didn’t need one in the middle. He’d get it for her, but he would make a right spectacle of himself doing so. 

“Let me push it, I know what I’m doing!” Ciri boasted. 

“As long as you're –” 

“I'm always careful,” Ciri immediately cut in to promise. Geralt knew she wasn't always, but the thought was nice. 

They loaded up the trolley through the chilled aisles and baked goods, Ciri holding up things frequently to buy and Geralt allowing every fifth item or so. He was pretty certain Ciri had caught on to him by the frozen aisle because she picked up 4 packets of frozen peas before the tub of Phish Food ice cream. 

Unfortunately, he completely lost her interest in vegetables. Which was to be expected of a seven-year-old. After almost eight minutes went by without a peep from her, Geralt suddenly looked around, shocked to realise he couldn’t see her. She still had the trolley, Geralt noticed. She couldn’t have gotten far. 

“Ciri?” He called sharply. She was probably in the salad aisle, or the herb aisle, yes smells always got her attention – 

_Screeeeeeecchhhh_

_CRAAAASSSHHHH_

“Yes! I win!” 

Oh lord, what was she doing now? At least the horrendously loud rattling screech of trolley wheels and the worrying bang had narrowed his daughter’s location down to the next aisle. 

“Indeed, fair maiden! You have won our tournament!” 

Geralt heard the enthusiastic voice of a young man as he turned into the confectionery and pick-n-mix aisle – _Who designs a shop with the sweets next to the vegetables? That’s_ _a missing child waiting to happen_ – 

Relief flooded Geralt upon having his daughter once again in his sights. He briefly noticed the other voice belonged to a young man with soft-looking brown hair, wearing a bright magenta hooded jacket over a band t-shirt Geralt was probably far too old to recognise, and a frilly lilac scarf. He was also wearing ridiculously tight jeans which Geralt could only tell because both the man and Ciri were stood on the bars of their trolleys, laughing at each other joyously even though the trolleys had clearly collided. 

Geralt could guess what was happening. Ciri was currently victoriously waving a – yup – French bread stick at the man who himself was brandishing a mop proudly. 

Daughter safe, and thankfully no angry strangers to worry about, Geralt tried for damage control whilst also taking charge of Ciri once more. 

“Sorry about that, she gets excited about new things,” Geralt said softly as he lifted the girl from standing on the trolley and placing her on the floor with a pointed Hmm. 

“Not at all, she saw me gliding about on mine,” the brunet chirped cheerfully. Up a bit closer, Geralt could see the man's jacket was also sparkly. No wonder Ciri got distracted – _loud and sparkly_ – 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to get her in trouble.” 

Geralt looked back at the man's face which now appeared slightly concerned. Ah, the stranger probably thought he was frowning; it happened often as – 

“Don’t worry, that’s just Daddy's face, he’s not mad at you Mr. Frilly,” Ciri cut in. At this, Geralt smirked questioningly at his daughter but then “Mr. Frilly” silently gestured to his scarf. He also blushed ever so slightly, but maybe Geralt imagined that. 

“I also go by Jaskier,” he said with a smile, extending his hand. 

Geralt nodded his understanding and shook Jaskier's hand amicably. “Geralt,” he replied softly. 

Jaskier smiled as he slowly let his hand go. “And I assure you we really weren't going that fast.” 

Realising that he still probably looked like a grumpy parent, and that Jaskier was clearly trying to make a better impression, Geralt threw him a bone. “I haven’t seen you in this store before?” 

Jaskier's face lit up, and Geralt's stomach absolutely did not have butterflies. “Ah, I’ve only just moved into town actually,” he explained, nodding at his trolley which Geralt now noticed had a few other household essentials such as cookware and towels as well as the mop. Perhaps he was a new student – 

“I just moved out of my ex's, and most of the stuff was his and...” Jaskier continued a little nervously. “And half the things I need I didn't realise right away and so now I’m just panic grabbing at the supermarket...” 

Geralt could tell he was starting to babble. It would be so easy to smile, nod and walk away after Ciri – who was thankfully completely enthralled with all the different chocolate buttons you can buy now – and just see Jaskier in the shop like all the other regulars. But – “I get it. When my ex-wife turfed me out, all I had was half a dozen shirts and just the rubbish films she didn’t want.” 

Jaskier laughed at that and nodded understandingly. Geralt tilted his head at the man; he admitted he was slightly endeared. 

“Hey, um, so I don’t actually know this area that well yet,” Jaskier started, rubbing a hand at the back of his neck. “But do you have any good take-out pizza recommendations?” 

Jaskier was definitely nervous, and Geralt was sort of flattered by that, or it at least looked like the good kind of nervous. He was about to list some not-obvious-chain pizza places when Ciri came bounding back to them. 

“Daddy makes the best pizza in town!” She declared boldly, hugging Geralt around the waist and crinkling slightly with all the chocolate bags in her hands. 

Jaskier laughed at her. “Best in town, huh, not in the world?” 

He was obviously teasing her but Ciri replied in all seriousness. “No. Papa Vesemir makes the best pizza in the world.” 

Geralt laughed and patted her head. He shrugged at Jaskier. 

“Of course,” Jaskier replied good-naturedly. 

Before Geralt could add any explanation, Ciri carried on. “We're having pizza tonight, aren’t we Daddy?Mr. Frilly can have pizza with us can’t he?” 

It was Geralt's turn to blush. “Um. I mean. I'm sure Mr. Frilly has plans...” 

Jaskier was biting his lip nervously. “Well, I –” 

“Mr. Frilly is having dinner with us Daddy, we’d better make more pizza!” Ciri decided. 

Finally taking control, Geralt confirmed, “We'd better make more pizza.” He met Jaskier’s eyes and smiled properly, and was absolutely certain this time the young man was blushing. 

“I’ll bring a not-rubbish film.” Jaskier offered. 

Geralt nodded and looked down at his daughter. This wasn’t the first time he’d tried to arrange a date since he and Yennefer had split up, but it was the first time he’d tried to do so with his daughter hanging at his waist. With an amused sigh, he pulled out his phone and unlocked it, silently passing it to Jaskier. 

Jaskier smirked as he took it, adding in his details silently. 

“Does around half five work for you?” Geralt asked softly. Jaskier nodded quickly. “Hmm. I’ll text you our address.” 

It was a comfortable time for them to part ways and continue shopping. Geralt instinctively reached out to shake his hand again – _dammit how old am I?_ – but Jaskier shook it again with a grin. Their hands lingered a bit longer this time before they turned to walk towards opposite ends of the aisle. 

“See you both tonight!” Jaskier called over his shoulder. 

After Geralt had loaded their shopping into the car and had Ciri safety buckled into the backseat, he took his phone back out to text Jaskier. He finally looked at the new contact information. 

_Mr. Frilly_

Geralt snorted to himself and looked into the backseat at Ciri through the rear-view mirror. 

“Sparkly and loud, huh?”


	2. Chapter 2

Jaskier wasn’t nervous. He absolutely wasn’t nervous. Except he was. He totally was because he had a dinner date – _was it even a date? It’s just dinner, come on Jask_ – with a gorgeous hunk of a _complete dork_ of a dad that was utterly besotted with his angelic little gremlin. And Jaskier had just met him. _Just_ met Geralt and Ciri and already he was determined not to blow it. Frankly, Jaskier didn’t care if Geralt wasn’t interested – _he's probably ten years older than me, he’s got a kid, he might be straight-straight not just kinda straight_ – but he so desperately wanted to spend more time with them both and get to know them.

God knows he could use some more friends. Valdo seemed to have left their relationship with all their mutual friends, but I suppose that’s what happens when you date a guy from university for four years and just make friends with all his music friends and –

Jaskier wanted so badly to get this right.

Which is why he stood outside the Rivia house – a beautiful old tall town house which Jaskier would have bet has one of those gorgeous long winding gardens – with a distinctly not-rubbish film and some flowers. A simple but beautiful bunch of wildflowers that Jaskier had stared at for at least fifteen minutes at the shop after he’d left Geralt and Ciri in confectionary. He’d decided to risk it but they’re white and delicate so if he's read the vibe _completely_ wrong they’re obviously for Ciri.

He knocked. Geralt said not to ring the doorbell because next door has a baby.

_Oh God I should have changed. Why am I still wearing my shopping clothes and this dumb scarf_ –

“Hey, Jaskier.”

Jaskier looked up to see Geralt at the doorway, long white hair tied up now and an apron at his waist – _oh man why is that sexy?_

He had a flour smudge on his cheek and his shirt was covered in flecks. Jaskier was about to tease him and ask why he’s only got a tiny apron when he's wearing a _black_ shirt when he heard footsteps behind the man.

“Mr Frilly!” Ciri cheered as she joined them in the doorway. She was wearing a full-size apron which on a child should look utterly ridiculous but she was also wearing an expression that said she was in charge.

“Already started on dinner I see!” Jaskier said with a grin.

Geralt looked down at his shirt and gave a very sweet shrug before standing to the side and gesturing for Jaskier to join them inside.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he offered. Ciri had already bounded back down the hallway so Jaskier shuffled in and started to wiggle his shoes off with his feet. This inadvertently drew attention to the flowers in his hand.

“Uh, I brought these,” Jaskier started, studying Geralt’s face carefully. Beneath the white smudge of flour there was a distinct pink blush. He didn’t think Geralt looked uncomfortable but _oh God it’s so hard to tell_. “I brought these.” He repeated quietly.

Jaskier inched the flowers forward to Geralt and _thank God_ he took them. Geralt smiled. No doubt there, that was a proper nice smile.

“Thank you, Jaskier,” he said softly. Jaskier felt Geralt's hand on his shoulder and he was about to say something when –

“Daddy, the dough has gotten _SO_ big!”

Jaskier and Geralt shared a little laugh before Geralt lead him further into the house.

The kitchen was in surprising order considering the state of the chefs, and Jaskier and Geralt walked in to find Ciri proudly holding up a bowl of proofing dough.

“I’ll show you how to make a base,” Ciri said excitedly.

“Wash your hands, Ciri,” Geralt reminded her and Jaskier also took his turn at the sink. As he dried his hands, we watched Geralt dig around a cupboard for a vase, as though he hadn’t used one in a long time, before carefully arranging the flowers to sit in the middle of the kitchen table.

It was a wonderfully sweet evening. Jaskier and Ciri both managed to get covered in flour as they tried to shape pizza crusts while Geralt seemed to be able to do it blind and helping them at the same time.

Jaskier had figured they’d be using tomato puree (he won’t admit to how many years at university he’d lived on pasta and tomato puree) but Geralt brought over a pan of homemade tomato sauce that smelled _so_ good. Even better was the proud little smile he made when Jaskier told him how good it smelled. Best yet was the blush and sudden inhale Geralt didn’t manage to hide when Jaskier couldn’t resist sticking a finger in to try a lick.

“Toppings!” Ciri exclaimed as she carried what Jaskier assumed was a stack of _everything_ from the fridge. Cheese quickly went absolutely everywhere as they each assembled a pizza and it turned out the pair had a tradition of making an extra Frankenstein pizza with every topping.

They loaded them into the oven – “Daddy's going to build a pizza oven in the garden next spring,” Ciri excitedly informed Jaskier. “But they’re still good in the oven.”

Geralt started to clear up while the pizzas cooked, and Ciri immediately vanished. Jaskier stood next to him at the sink to dry things up.

“Thank you for asking me over,” Jaskier said, even though it was clearly Ciri that asked. “I'm really glad I’m here.”

Geralt Hmmed at that, and Jaskier had started to notice it might be his default setting but it sounded like a happy Hmm at least. “What would your Saturday night have been otherwise?” Geralt asked.

“Oh, um,” Jaskier hesitated and dammit he knew he was blushing but _he’s going to think I'm so naive and just struggling and_ – “Well, I’m usually performing at some venue or another, if I’ve managed to get any bookings.” He looked over at Geralt and he seemed interested, not like he suddenly regretted inviting a hipster over, so, “I sing and, uh, play guitar. Among other things.”

Geralt nodded, and definitely didn’t look at Jaskier's mouth when he bit his lip nervously, except Jaskier definitely saw his eyes dart down.

Jaskier shrugged. “But nobody knows me around here. Not yet anyway,” Jaskier laughed quietly. “I’m on at the open mic night this week at Posada's –”

“The live night at The Mandrake is pretty good,” Geralt cut in. Jaskier couldn’t have contained his smile even if he’d tried. Honestly, so many people laughed at him for _still_ trying and –

_Breathe, Jask._

“Yeah? What kind of music do they usually have? I mean, well, a lot of my covers usually go down really well, but I also play a lot of my own songs,” Jaskier asked as he dried up the last bowl. Damn it, he was starting to ramble. But he looked over again at Geralt and the man was nodding, and Jaskier thought he might have Hmmed again. Silently though. Jaskier got a little distracted again watching Geralt dry his hands on Jaskier's dish towel and then start to put things away.

“Hmm? What sort of things do you write?” Geralt finally asked, and he definitely stood closer than he needed to as he reached around Jaskier to pick crockery up from the counter.

Jaskier was absolutely not about to reply something like meeting hot dads at the supermarket when the oven timer beeped loudly.

“Pizza!!”

Jaskier jumped a little at Ciri's sudden – _immediate_ – reappearance and although he had no real reason to blush, his cheeks felt like they were on fire.

Geralt laughed ever so quietly. Jaskier eyed him carefully as the man's mouth turned up in the slightest smirk. _Oh, Geralt was teasing him._

Jaskier flicked the dish towel at Geralt before joining Ciri at the oven, taking the mitts from her before she could try to hurt herself carrying too many hot pizzas. They took the pizzas to the lounge and before Jaskier could worry about where he should sit, Ciri sat him in the middle of the sofa because _that’s where guests sit, Mr. Frilly._

“What film are we watching?” Ciri asked, sat on the floor in front of the telly to get to the DVD player.

“Oh!” Jaskier popped up again and went to his bag. “Have you guys seen _The Princess Bride_?”

Ciri had not and Gert agreed it was a not-rubbish film. Not that Jaskier would have judged him too harshly if he didn’t liked his favourite film.

He sat between Geralt and Ciri as they ate pizza, and Jaskier definitely agreed it was at least the best pizza in town and quite frankly until he tried ‘Papa Vesemir's’ pizza, he was willing to say best ever. They watched the film, Geralt and Jaskier both half watching Ciri watch it for the first time. When Geralt took his hair out from its bun, Jaskier couldn’t help but reach over to tuck a stray lock behind his ear before Geralt tied half of it back anyway.

Away from the warm kitchen, it cooled down quickly in the lounge so Geralt pulled the throw blanket over them from the back of the sofa. He laughed softly when Jaskier stole the opportunity to tuck in closer as his arms were raised, and then laughed properly when Ciri used Jaskier's distraction to steal his frilly scarf.

Jaskier must have dozed off towards the end of the film because he woke up to Geralt carefully easing him up from leaning against his chest as the credits rolled. “Just putting Ciri to bed.”

Ah, yes, parenting to be done. Jaskier blinked himself awake somewhat while Geralt followed Ciri upstairs. As he listened to muffled arguments about whether she'd brushed her teeth for long enough and how many stories she needed before sleep, Jaskier took their cleared plates back to the kitchen.

He was putting the last of the clean dishes away when Geralt reappeared.

“The princess sleeps?” Jaskier asked softly. Geralt Hmmed at him, leaning against the door frame in a way that looked far too good for him to not be aware.

“Are _you_ awake now?” Geralt teased, and Jaskier admirably resisted sticking his tongue out. Really though, he only resisted because he finally closed the distance between them and leaned up, hopeful, towards Geralt. He was pretty sure, but _Oh god what if he really had misread things_ –

Geralt kissed him. He kissed him softly, steadily and with a firm hand holding Jaskier's hip to his waist.

Jaskier sighed, only loud enough for Geralt to just hear. “Yeah, I'm awake.”

* * *

Update: My amazing friend Chio ([@frogcheeseuniverse](https://frogcheeseuniverse.tumblr.com/)) drew this cutewonderfulgorgeous art within _moments_ of my sending the draft of the first chapter. Go check them out. They're amazing <3 <3

**Author's Note:**

> I am happy to get con/crit! this is my first fic posting in like a decade, so any and all feedback is welcome ^^


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